Unforgettable
by Liam2
Summary: When Willow stand accused of a murder she doesn't remember, a recently souled Spike takes on the case.
1. Part One

Hey boys and girls. This little piece of drivel is called Unforgettable. This is my first time posting here, but it isn't my first piece of writing. I'm well versed in the WhedonVerse doing C/A centric Angel fic. This is my first crack at a pure Buffy fic. It's a Spike story, so I hope you enjoy. I'd love a few reviews.  
  
WEDNESDAY NIGHT  
  
The slim brunette smiled slyly at her. Willow's eyes raked over the exquisite body of the woman before her, lust evident in her face. "Do you want me to take my shirt off?" the girl teased. She smoothed out her black skirt before her hands went to the top button on her white dress shirt. Willow nodded dumbly, her eyes watching intently as the girl before her slowly undid the buttons. If she didn't hurry up, Willow might have to help speed things up.  
  
Willow gasped in approval as the girl finally shrugged off the shirt, revealing her smooth ivory skin, and a lacey black satin bra that held her full and round breasts. "I take it you like?" the girl smiled. Willow nodded again, her eyes fixated on the girl's beautiful breasts. "Now show me yours," the girl commanded softly. It was now Willow's turn to smile slyly.  
  
Willow reached down and grabbed the bottom of her lavender shirt. "I suppose that's only fair," she replied to the girl's command. She lifted the shirt slowly, relishing the fact that she knew the girl was lusting after her tight stomach, then her small but pert breasts. She could tell that the girl liked her simple white cotton bra. Willow tossed the shirt aside. "Your turn again."  
  
The girl bit gently on her full, lower lip as she reached down to the small hook on her skirt. Willow was torn between watching the girl's hands and her mouth. The redhead instantly decided she would have to taste that mouth very shortly. The girl raised one perfect eyebrow and asked, "Are you paying close attention?"  
  
"Absolutely," Willow answered. She literally started salivating as the skirt dropped away and revealed a matching black panty. "Beautiful," Willow breathed, "absolutely beautiful." Her eyes never left the Goddess before her as Willow's fingers undid the hook holding up her white dress. She allowed the dress to fall to the floor and watched as the girl's eyes widen.  
  
"Beautiful," the girl repeated, "absolutely beautiful." She fixed Willow with a look of pure lust. "Now come here," she commanded. Willow found herself unable to resist the strong tone. She stepped gently to the girl, her arms immediately seeking to pull her in. Willow's hands instinctively went to the girl's back, searching for the clasp that would expose this Goddess' bosom.  
  
The girl feverishly began to kiss and nip at Willow's throat, eliciting small moans of pleasure from the redhead. It was then that Willow had one last thought before losing herself to the girl before her.  
  
"I never got your name," Willow chuckled.  
  
The girl paused her ministrations long enough to answer. "Amanda," she whispered. "Now shut up and kiss me."  
  
"Amanda," Willow breathed. "Such a pretty name." Willow finally unhooked Amanda's bra. She quickly sought to claim the treasure that it freed. But Amanda shoved Willow to the bed, breaking the contact Willow so desperately wanted. She didn't have to wait long.  
  
Amanda grinned evilly as she pulled Willow's panties off. "Let the fun begin."  
  
THURSDAY AFTERNOON  
  
Willow awoke with an absolute bitch of a headache. She hesitantly opened one eye and found an alarm clock next to the bed. Through the pain in her head, she vaguely realized that it wasn't her alarm clock. It also occurred to her that her bed wasn't as hard as the one she currently rested on. But ignoring that for a moment, she fumbled for the clock to see the time.  
  
3:47 PM  
  
"Aw fuck," Willow groaned. Somehow Willow managed to push herself up and into a sitting position, her feet dangling from the bed. She went to scratch her stomach when she reached an interesting conclusion.  
  
"I'm naked," she mumbled. Willow cautiously stood to test her legs. She was pleased they seemed to be working. Willow stumbled to short distance to the bathroom, her mind clearing enough to understand she was in a hotel. As she plopped down on the toilet, Willow propped an elbow on the sink next to her and rested her chin. Her mind tried to grasp the reasons why she would be in a hotel.  
  
"Buffy didn't kick me out, did she?" Willow's brain struggled to reach a conclusion to the question. She unraveled some toilet paper and wiped herself. Her mind was still warming up and she nearly forgot to flush. Willow forewent washing her hands and stumbled from the bathroom. She found an armchair in the near corner and sat down. As she sat, her arm brushed against the unmistakable feel of satin. Confused, she held up the black satin bra.  
  
"I don't own something like this." When she looked past the C-cups, her eyes spotted another form on the bed. "Oh God," she groaned. She couldn't believe it for so many reasons. She was a good Jewish girl. Granted, she got addicted to magicks and killed a man, but still, it was too soon after Tara's death.  
  
"I had a one night stand." The fact horrified her. It also served to awaken her senses to a functional level. Willow dropped to the floor and began picking up pieces of clothing she recognized as hers. "Shoes," she muttered. "Where the hell are my shoes?"  
  
She found them on the floor beside the bed. The side that the woman slept on. Quietly and carefully Willow crawled until she grabbed her sandals. As she began to pull away, Willow gasped in shock. The girl's eyes were open. Willow gasped again as she realized..the girl wasn't blinking.  
  
Willow reached out and brushed a long strand of hair away from the girl's neck. As she did, visions of passion and ecstasy flooded her memory. She hadn't just had a one night stand. Willow had thoroughly enjoyed it. She pushed the memory aside long enough to touch two fingers to the girl's neck. No pulse.  
  
Willow was fully to her senses now. She raced back around the bed and grabbed the telephone and hit 9-1-1. "This is 9-1-1," the voice answered. "What is your emergency?"  
  
Willow sat on the floor, her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. Tears had begun to flow down her face as she spoke. "My name is Willow Rosenberg. I don't know where I am."  
  
"Excuse me?" the operator asked.  
  
"I don't know where I am," Willow repeated. "And somebody is dead."  
  
THURSDAY EVENING  
  
SUNNYDALE POLICE DEPARTMENT  
  
The past several months had brought about more changes with the Sunnydale Police than the previous two decades before it. Of course, Detective Greg Ray had only heard about most of it.  
  
Apparently in mid-May, some mysterious woman had pulled a Terminator and destroyed a good portion of the south wall of the station. A couple of prisoners escaped in the confusion and were never found.  
  
The aftermath was a genuine Perestroika when it came to the Sunnydale PD. The chief of police had summarily been relieved of duty, as had several officers that had been on duty in the detention wing of the building that night.  
  
The Sunnydale City Council had evidently seen the opportunity to finally begin work on that expansion project to add more cells. They had also raided other police departments around the state, looking for people to replace those who had been fired. Enter Greg Ray.  
  
Ray had been quite content with his job at the Sonoma Police Department. It was a nice town, right in the heart of wine country. Great neighbors, good public schools, although the pay left a little to be desired. And Ray was man enough to admit, it was the promise of a six thousand dollar a year pay raise that finally lured him here. Of course, retrospect was telling him that he should have kept his ass in Sonoma. This town was just fucking weird.  
  
If Ray earned a nickel for every time a body was brought to the morgue with two puncture wounds on the neck, he might be able to retire five years early. For a town of its size, there was a high murder rate. Hell, Ray thought, the murder rate was high for Newark.  
  
The detective kicked back and propped his feet on his desk as he read the preliminary reports on the death from earlier in the day. This one seemed relatively normal, well, not that any murder is normal. But for Sunnydale standards it was.  
  
There didn't seem to be any bruising or lacerations on Amanda Richards. The coroner was giving an initial cause of death as autoerotic asphyxiation. Kinky, especially considering that it was another woman who she was found with. Miss Willow Rosenberg was being held for questioning.  
  
"Ray!" Heather Jenkins called to him. "You got visitors for the Rosenberg girl."  
  
Ray turned towards the lobby and spotted three individuals. There was an older and distinguished looking man flanked by a short blonde girl and a tall dark haired man. Ray hopped to his feet and went over to greet the newcomers.  
  
"Hello, my name is Detective Greg Ray. I understand you wish to see Willow Rosenberg."  
  
"Yes," the older man replied. "My name is Rupert Giles, these are Xander Harris and Buffy Summers. May I ask why she is being held?"  
  
"Well, it seems that Miss Rosenberg called 9-1-1 about the death of a young girl. At the moment, we are simply holding her for questioning, but that is proving to be difficult."  
  
"Why is that?" Giles asked.  
  
"Miss Rosenberg seems to remember very little. In fact, she claims to remember nothing at all. Perhaps you may be able to help us with the timeline. When was the last you saw Miss Rosenberg?"  
  
"We say her around four yesterday afternoon," Buffy spoke. "She said that she was going out last night. She didn't say where. May we see her now?"  
  
"Of course," Ray nodded. He turned to an officer behind the desk. "Officer Curtis, could you escort these three to Holding Cell B?" The officer agreed and grabbed the keys from the desk. "Just follow him," Ray informed the trio. The Scoobies thanked the detective and followed the officer through the halls of the Sunnydale Police Department.  
  
Willow sat behind a rickety old oak table in an uncomfortable chair that reminded the redhead of some high school classes. She brushed her hair away from her face as she waited. Although she didn't quite know what she was waiting for. Willow had been in this room for nearly four hours. She was beginning to think that no one would ever come for her.  
  
So Willow leaped from her seat when she saw her friends enter the room. "Buffy! Giles! Xander! I'm so glad to see you guys!" Willow hugged each of her friends with fervor.  
  
"Willow?" Giles asked. "Are you okay? Are you injured?"  
  
"Willow," Buffy started. "What is going on? The police said that you called in a death."  
  
"I'm fine," Willow answered Giles' question first. "And I really don't know what is going on. I woke up in a hotel room with a dead girl in bed with me."  
  
"A hotel, Will?" Xander asked. "I'm sorry, but what were you doing at a hotel?"  
  
"I don't know!" an exasperated Willow shouted. "The last thing that I remember for certain is saying goodbye to you guys at the Magic Box. But, uh, I've kind of been having flashes of visions."  
  
"Visions of what?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Of me and this girl, doing, uh, well." Willow trailed off, and the trio had a great idea of what she was talking about.  
  
Giles cleared his throat. "Well, it sounds as if you are experiencing a form of retrograde amnesia. Your mind has repressed whatever happened, but your subconscious is trying to clue you in, so to speak."  
  
"Well, I hope my subconscious decides to speed things up, because I want to know what happened last night."  
  
The door swung open to reveal a grim faced Greg Ray and Officer Curtis behind him. "Miss Rosenberg," Ray began, "do you have any new information for us, or is your memory still fuzzy?"  
  
"I don't remember what happened," Willow defended.  
  
The detective looked somber, as if he was prepared to do something he really didn't care for. "The only fingerprints that the CSI's have located belong to the victim and yourself. There is no forced entry, and seemingly no presence of a third individual. They also found traces of a Ketamine- type substance in the room and in her blood. "  
  
"What are you saying?" Giles asked.  
  
Ray turned and faced the Englishman. "I'm saying that Miss Rosenberg is advised to retain a lawyer. Officer Curtis, could you read Miss Rosenberg her rights?"  
  
Willow's head sunk as the officer began to recite from his list. As the handcuffs were secured around her wrists, Willow couldn't help but think that perhaps this is what she deserved. 


	2. Part Two

THURSDAY NIGHT  
  
The black Cadillac roared through the park, past the duck pond and bicycle trail. It crashed through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign with authority before coming to a screeching halt.  
  
The door opened, and out stepped Spike. His black jeans and t-shirt were ripped and torn. His long leather duster hung loosely from his rail thin body. Bruises marred his cheeks, and his eyes were reddened from tears. He placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. He took a single long drag before tossing the cigarette, and the entire pack, to the ground.  
  
"Home sweet home," he whispered.  
  
**********  
  
"Dawn! Clem! I'm home!" Buffy stepped through the front door and tossed her keys to a nearby table. Xander and Giles followed behind. Everyone was still in a state of shock at the current situation. It would be a long night of discussion they realized as they tried to figure out a course of action.  
  
Dawn rushed from the living room, glad that her sister was home. It gave an excuse to get away from Clem for a moment. The demon was a decent guy, but Spike was a far better babysitter. At least the vampire knew games other than checkers and 'Go Fish'.  
  
The floppy eared demon waddled in behind Dawn, and the pair awaited news. "So?" Dawn asked. "What happened? Where is Willow?"  
  
"Willow is still at the police station," Buffy said softly.  
  
"Why? She hasn't been arrested has she?" The trio looked about nervously, and Dawn had her answer. "Oh my God, Willow has been arrested. Why?"  
  
"It seems to be rather complicated," Giles answered. "But, ah, Willow called in about a woman's death, and the police seem to think she is responsible. But don't worry. I'm fairly positive this ordeal will be cleared up." Giles thought he sounded convincing. Supportive looks from Buffy and Xander affirmed that he had.  
  
"I'm sorry about Willow," Clem inserted. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Maybe watch Dawn for a bit longer so you three can discuss things?" Dawn shook her head lightly and mouth 'No'. Buffy took sympathy on her sister.  
  
"No thanks, Clem. I appreciate you staying." Clem took the hint and said his farewells to the group. The demon slipped out the door, leaving the four alone. Buffy turned back to Dawn and asked, "Have you taken a shower yet?" Dawn shook her head. "Then hop to it."  
  
Dawn huffed in annoyance and stomped up the stairs. "If you want me gone, just tell me," she muttered. Buffy waited until she heard pipes running before she spoke.  
  
"What do you guys think?" Buffy led the group into the living room.  
  
"Do I even need to say what I think?" Xander asked.  
  
Giles sat in an armchair and let out a deep sigh. "I, like Xander, would like to give Willow the benefit of the doubt, but."  
  
"You guys both think she had a relapse," Buffy stated flatly. "You think that for some reason she used magiks and killed a girl."  
  
"I'd hate to say it Buffy," Giles said, "but it is a possible explanation. When a witch uses magiks after a substantial period of disuse, it can cause memory loss. And the detective spoke of a Ketamine-type substance found in the room. There are several magical substances that possess approximately the same make up and effects."  
  
"So what do you think happened?" Xander asked. "I'm still wondering why the hell she was in a motel room with a strange woman."  
  
"During my recent treatments of Willow, Tara weighed quite heavily on her mind," Giles spoke. "She seemed quite lonely on an intimate level. It's possible that she intended to sleep with this woman, only she didn't want the girl to remember. That is essentially the use of Ketamine. The detective said they found the substance in the girl's blood. I think it highly possible that Willow administered an overdose, quite possibly accidental, but enough to be fatal."  
  
"Now let's make sure I understand this clearly," Xander said. Neither Buffy nor Giles had ever heard the young man sound quite so serious. "What you are saying is that Willow used this drug to possibly rape a girl, but gave her too much of the drug and killed her."  
  
Giles sputtered for a few moments before offering a meek, "I didn't say rape. I just said that she had a void."  
  
Buffy flopped back onto the couch. "I thought the sessions you were having with Willow were going well," she sighed. "How could this happen?"  
  
"I don't know what we can do," Giles said. "I believe the matter to be out of our hands now. Willow is in the hands of the police and it is they that will deal out consequences."  
  
The three leaned back in their seats and wondered what, if anything, they could do to help their friend.  
  
*******  
  
Clem leaned back in the beat up recliner and reached into his bag of pork rinds. The demon happily munched away as he watched a 'Highlander: The Series' marathon. He grabbed his Mountain Dew and sipped a large gulp through the straw as he watched Duncan slice the head off some immortal.  
  
"The place is a mess," a voice said behind him. Clem jumped from the recliner, spilling his soda and pork rinds all over the floor. He took up what he hoped was an intimidating stance.  
  
"Who's there?" he croaked.  
  
From the shadows stepped the familiar form of Spike. But the vampire looked different, Clem thought. He looked thinner, as if he hadn't been eating. He also looked like he went twelve rounds with Ali.  
  
"Bloke leaves his place to a sitter, he expects the place to be kept decent," Spike joked weakly. "But that is no matter I suppose." Spike tried to put on his usual cocky air, but it just wasn't evident in his walk. "Not like I plan on staying very long."  
  
"Spike, buddy," Clem greeted happily. "Where have you been? You've missed some crazy stuff."  
  
"Did I?" Spike tried to convey disinterest, but it was difficult to put any emotion in his voice. "Let me guess, there was some wacko trying to bring about an apocalypse. Said wacko, while trying to unleash said hell on earth, was foiled at the last instant by Buffy and her band of merry men. So, Clem, tell me. Did the Slayer die this time around, or was this her year to survive the big bad?"  
  
Clem stared blankly at the vampire for a moment as Spike dug around in a closet and began scooping out clothes. "Well, actually, the big bad turned out to be Willow, and the actual hero seems to have been Xander."  
  
That comment was more than enough to gain Spike's attention. The vampire turned and gave Clem a confused glance. "Willow? I'm sorry mate, but I thought you just said that sweet little redhead tried to bring about the end of the world."  
  
"Yeah," Clem said as he reached down and grabbed the bag of pork rinds. "Tara was killed by these three losers."  
  
"Wait," Spike interrupted. "Tara is dead?" If Clem didn't know any better, he would swear that information was sending Spike to the verge of tears. "Go on," Spike choked out.  
  
"Well, battles ensued. Willow absorbed dark magiks and went out for revenge. She killed the guy that actually killed Tara. Buffy's Watcher came back from England to help stop her. It was finally Xander that evidently found the way. Like I said, you missed a lot." Clem shoved a few pork rinds into his mouth when he finished.  
  
Spike, meanwhile, was stunned beyond belief. Maybe if he were here he could have done something. "What else?" he asked. "Willow, is she okay?"  
  
"Not really. Seems that she's been arrested for killing a girl. Sounds like she may have fell off the magik wagon." Clem stared down at the spilled soda. "I'm really sorry about this. I'll get a mop." When he looked up, Spike had disappeared.  
  
*******  
  
Spike stepped into the Sunnydale Police Station with a look of confusion on his face. He didn't recall them constructing new walls when he was last in town. He decided that question could wait. Instead he walked up to the front desk where a pretty little brunette was working.  
  
"Excuse me?" he asked with a politeness that surprised himself. "Would it be possible to visit someone who I believe to be here?" He tried to be as charming as he could, and it seemed to be working.  
  
"We don't normally allow visitors this late," the officer answered as she checked him out.  
  
"I understand that," Spike said, "but I would much appreciate it if you could make an exception. I've been out of town, and I just now got back in when I heard the news." He gave his most sincere smile, a smile he hadn't used in over 125 years, to the officer. "Please?"  
  
It seemed that the smile worked. The officer grabbed some keys and shouted to a fellow officer to cover for her. "Follow me please," the officer said. Spike dutifully obeyed and followed the officer through a series of hallways. "Who is it that you wish to see?"  
  
"Willow Rosenberg," Spike answered. The officer's eyes widened. "I understand that she is being accused of murder?"  
  
"I can't state the specifics," the officer said, "but we are holding her in connection with the death of a young woman." The pair stopped at a room marked 'Visitation'. The officer opened the door. "If you would wait in here, I will bring Miss Rosenberg out momentarily." Spike slipped into the room to wait.  
  
It was just like you saw on the telly, Spike realized. There were a dozen booths lined up in the center of the room. A fiberglass type of barrier divided the room in two to keep the nasties on the other side. Only a few months ago, Spike would have found that amusing. But not now. Not when he had a soul, and not when it was Willow being grouped in as a 'nasty'.  
  
The vampire ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his coat. He didn't know why, but he wanted to look respectable for Willow. Only a few moments later, said witch was led into the opposite room.  
  
Spike's mouth dropped open in shock as he took in the sight before him. Willow looked like a frightened child as she was brought in. Not long ago that vision would have aroused and excited him, but now, it made his heart break. The baggy orange jumpsuit hung off her body. Her normally bright and vibrant red hair hung limply and dully around her face. But the look of surprise on her face when she saw her visitor was what shocked him the most. Willow almost looked.pleased to see him.  
  
Willow took a seat at a booth, and Spike sat down opposite her. Willow was the first to speak when they each grabbed a phone.  
  
"Spike, what are you doing here?" Willow asked.  
  
"I came because I was worried about you," Spike answered honestly. This damn soul was really messing with him. This whole caring thing was both wondrous and terrifying. At this moment, he had a whole knew respect for that grandsire of his, Angel.  
  
"Why do you care?" Willow asked. She didn't mean to sound as harsh as she did. But still, it surprised her that Spike seemed to be hurt by her comment.  
  
"I just do," he whispered. "What happened?"  
  
"I don't know!" Willow said for the hundredth time. "All I know is I woke up next to a dead woman. I think I.well, I'm pretty sure I."  
  
"You're sure you did what?" Spike asked.  
  
"I slept with this woman." Spike raised his brows in surprise. Promiscuity certainly didn't sound like Willow. "I've been having flashed of us.together. Doing things that, well, you know."  
  
"But you say you don't remember anything?" Willow nodded. "What is the last thing you do remember?"  
  
"I remember the Magic Box," Willow recalled. "Giles has been helping cleanse the magik residue from me." Willow started to cry softly. "I thought I was doing good." She lifted her head and stared Spike in the eyes. "I was evil. I hurt people."  
  
"That's not what I heard," Spike responded. Willow looked at him curiously through her tears. "I heard that you had something you loved very much taken away. You responded like anyone would. You wanted to see justice."  
  
"It wasn't justice, Spike," Willow stated flatly. "It was vengeance, and it was wrong. I was evil." Willow looked away and stared her shoes. "I am evil."  
  
"No, love, you're not. Look at me." Willow raised her eyes and was once again shocked by what she found. Caring. "You are not evil. This is a demon talking. I think I know evil when I see it. What I see is a girl who is frightened and scared and hurt because the woman that she loved more than life itself was taken from her. Something that is evil can't feel that. Who would know better about that than me?"  
  
Willow continued to stare at Spike in disbelief. "What has happened to you?" she asked. "Why do you care?"  
  
"Let's just say I had an epiphany."  
  
"Isn't that a Catholic thing?" Willow joked lightly.  
  
"I wouldn't know," Spike joked back. "As a human, I was Protestant." He was very happy that Willow smiled. Spike never noticed before, but Willow had a nice smile. He shook that thought away and returned to business. "And you remember nothing after the Magic Box?"  
  
"No. But I do remember I was going somewhere."  
  
"Would Buffy or Giles know where?" Willow noticed that Spike cringed at the name of the slayer.  
  
"I evidently didn't tell them."  
  
Spike contemplated for a few moments. Willow didn't have much information for him. Well then, the vampire decided, he'd just have to find some on his own.  
  
"Do you still live with Buffy?" Spike asked. Willow nodded that she did. "I need you to invite me in the house."  
  
"Why?" Willow asked.  
  
"Maybe there will be some clue as to where you went last night. Maybe I can find something that can set you free."  
  
"Or maybe you just want open access to Buffy," she accused. The hurt look on Spike's face surprised Willow once more.  
  
"I think it best that I don't get involved with Buffy right now," Spike said. "I'd also appreciate it if you made no mention of me being here, or that I am even in town." He hesitated a few moments before continuing. "I want you to know that I will do everything I can to prove you innocent." He smiled slightly. "And if that doesn't work, I'll bake a cake with a file it in for you."  
  
Spike was extraordinarily pleased to see Willow smile again. "Thank you," she said. A guard opened the door on her side of the glass. Willow turned for a moment before giving her attention to Spike. "They say that time is up." Spike smiled at her. "And Spike? I invite you into the house."  
  
"Thank you, Willow," he said. "And I promise, I will do everything I can for you." Before he even had a chance to say goodbye, the guard was leading Willow back to her cell. He gently replaced the phone back on the wall before standing to retrace his steps from the building. Already, a plan was forming in his head. And the first step looked to be the hardest.  
  
*********  
  
Spike stuffed a piece of winterfresh gum in his mouth as he studied the Summers house. He was seriously reconsidering not only this plan, but also his choice to give up smoking. This gum tasted like shit.  
  
Peering at the windows, Spike could see four figures in the living room. As long as they all stayed in there, he had nothing to worry about. Spike quickly and quietly moved to the side of the house. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking before using his vampire agility to leap up and grab a window ledge. He lucked out when he found it to be opened. With a deft move, he leapt through the window and onto his feet.  
  
"Oh damn," he muttered. As Spike looked around, he noticed a few dolls, some boy band posters, and other knickknacks for a teenage girl's room. "I'm in Dawn's bedroom," Spike realized. "That or Xander has moved in."  
  
Spike used his natural vampire stealth to enter the hallway without making a sound. He shifted into demon face a moment and sniffed the air. He turned to his right to the door at the end of the hall. Willow's scent was strongest there. Spike gently pushed open the door.  
  
"Bingo." He stepped into the room and immediately began his search. Spike crouched by the bed and opened the drawers of the small end table. He flipped through a few small notebooks and folders and found nothing. Spike stood up and looked about. He sighed heavily and reached into his pocket and retrieved his pack of chewing gum. He popped another piece in his mouth as he considered where else to look.  
  
Spike finally stepped over to the bookcase. He noticed a copy of Brave New World was resting crooked on the shelf. He grabbed the novel and flipped through the pages. In the center, Spike noticed a folded up pink flyer. He pulled it out so he could read it.  
  
"Battling addiction? On the road to recovery? Need someone to talk to? Better Tomorrow is there for you. Come see us today, so you can have a Better Tomorrow."  
  
Spike raised his brows. "Catchy motto," he admitted. "Now where was this meeting?" Spike looked at the bottom of the flier and found his answer. "Craig Hall, UC-Sunnydale. So this is where you were, Willow. This will give me something to do tomorrow."  
  
Spike's head shot up as an unmistakable sensation overtook his body. He quickly stuffed the flier in his jacket and tossed the book back on the shelf. With a burst of vampire speed, he rushed across the room, opened the window and leapt out. Only a few moments later Buffy poked her head into the room.  
  
"Funny," she said. "I thought I closed that window." Buffy walked over and shut the window. A chill ran through her spine. Something was slightly off. "I'm just paranoid," Buffy muttered. She walked out of the room, intent on taking a shower and going to bed.  
  
SUNNYDALE HOSPITAL LOWER LEVEL-MORGUE  
  
A soon as Spike stepped off the elevator, a cold chill swept through his body. Death and corpses never bothered him before. Hell, he was a vampire. Why would it? Maybe what was spooking him was how sterile everything was. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air. Spike didn't like it.  
  
The vampire peered around the hallway and found himself to be alone. He nervously fiddled with the cuffs of the white overcoat he swiped from a doctor dressing room. He located a sign directing him to the morgue and followed the arrows.  
  
Spike passed a few gurneys that still had the fresh scent of death clinging to them. A janitor that was mopping the floor paid him no mind as he passed. Spike simply slipped through the swinging doors of the autopsy room to begin his search.  
  
In the center of the room was a metal table. Spike paused for a moment as he gazed at the outline of a body beneath the plastic sheet covering it up. He really didn't like this place. Shaking off his discomfort, Spike peered around the room in hopes of finding something that could help him. On a counter on the opposite side of the room he found what he needed.  
  
Spike found a tray that appeared to contain files pertaining to recent autopsies. Seven file folders were in the pile. He was able to quickly eliminate five of them since they were men. The two remaining were for an Amanda Richards and Josephine Tomlinson. The Tomlinson file was easily eliminated since it was a car accident victim.  
  
"Hello Amanda," Spike whispered.  
  
This one appeared to be the girl. He opened up the file and was greeted by a small picture of an attractive brunette smiling up at him. Spike gulped and looked at the cover page.  
  
White female. Twenty-one years of age. Bone structure looked fine. Organs appeared to be healthy except for some tar buildup in the lungs. She was a smoker, Spike realized. He flipped the page. Amanda led a largely healthy life. Appendectomy at age fifteen. Tonsils removed at age nine.  
  
"Where the hell's the toxicology?" Spike mumbled. He turned to page seven and there it was. "What do we got here?"  
  
What he had was something he largely didn't understand. The doctor had evidently found a substance that resembled a drug called Ketamine. Spike had heard of it before. If he recalled correctly, Ketamine was the date rape drug. He was about to flip the page when he saw a notation at the bottom.  
  
"Refer to file #JFB5183-Rosenburg, Willow Anne."  
  
Spike frowned and put the Richards file back on the pile. He then looked around the lab and found a couple files placed in a container hanging by the door. He went over and found a file with Willow's name on it. Spike skipped past the vitals and went straight for the toxicology.  
  
"Now that's weird," Spike observed.  
  
"Finding everything you need?"  
  
Spike jumped and nearly dropped the file. If he had a heart, Spike was sure it'd be in his throat at the moment. He turned and found an attractive looking woman glaring at him. She was obviously a doctor. Spike guessed her to be thirty-ish. She had long black hair tied back in a bun. Glasses adorned her face and she appeared to have a nice pair of legs. Quite a looker.  
  
"Question is, should I call security?"  
  
"I wish you wouldn't," Spike answered. Her heels clicked on the tile as she approached.  
  
"What is your business here?"  
  
"I'm looking into a death."  
  
"Are you an investigator?"  
  
"More or less."  
  
"Where is your license?"  
  
"That would be the less."  
  
"I'm calling security." The doctor breezed past him and reached for a wall phone. "If you run really fast maybe you'll escape before they get here."  
  
"Please, don't call," Spike pleaded. The doctor looked at him curiously for a moment. Spike breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared he'd get time to explain. "My friend is in jail for murder. I'm just trying to prove one way or another whether she did it. My name is William.Summers and I would appreciate your help, Doctor."  
  
"Kelly. Melissa Kelly," she supplied. "And against my better judgment, I'm going to hear you out. So talk."  
  
Spike actually breathed a sigh of relief before he launched into his speech. "Like I said, I'm looking into a death. Does the name Amanda Richards ring any bells?"  
  
"Sure. Doctor Polanski did the autopsy. I don't know any specifics about it."  
  
Spike crossed the room once more and grabbed the Richards file. He handed it over to Dr. Kelly and motioned for her to open it. "She was a young woman that was found dead in a motel room. My friend is being held in connection with her death."  
  
Kelly flipped through the file and observed the cause of death. "Dr. Polanski ruled the cause to be a drug overdose due to a Ketamine derivative."  
  
"Can you explain to me what Ketamine is?" Spike inquired.  
  
"It's most commonly used to medicate animals. It possesses properties that are sometimes used to induce a memory loss. It began to gain popularity in the early nineties at the club scene. Often young men would slip it into a woman's drink to rape her. The next morning leaves little to no memory of the previous events."  
  
Spike grabbed Willow's file and handed it over. "Look at the toxicology of the person being held. Can you explain to me why she would also show Ketamine in her blood? Does that make sense? When you say yourself that the drug has amnesiac effects, why would the person accused of a murder ingest the drug?"  
  
"Because it isn't exactly Ketamine," Kelly explained. "How closely do you follow the news?"  
  
"Not too well," Spike admitted. "I've been out of the country for a while."  
  
"Well, to be honest, I'm surprised it's only now showing up in Sunnydale. The drug that is in Miss Richards blood and your friend is a synthesized Ketamine-Ecstasy hybrid. It first showed up in Mexico a couple years ago and moved up through San Diego, Los Angeles, and evidently here. On the streets it's called KX or Kicks."  
  
Spike frowned in confusion. "Okay, this KX. How is it different than straight Ketamine?"  
  
"It's different because of the drug Ecstasy, which is also a highly popular party drug. It's effects typically loosen a person's behavior. In essence, it makes the person friendlier. Users typically report feeling more sociable when on it."  
  
Spike was stilled confused. "Okay, still a little slow on the uptake." He was grateful that the doctor didn't seem to be loosing her patience. In fact, she actually seemed to be warming up to him.  
  
"The reason your friend might have it in her system is for a couple reasons. First, the ecstasy properties would make her more sociable. Give her courage to perhaps talk to this girl. Second, the mix between the two drugs seems to elicit a bliss-like state. Makes the user really happy. Then third, it does wipe the memory away. Maybe your friend used it for the purposes of plausible deniability. Can't confess to a crime that you don't remember."  
  
"That last reason seems kinda thin," Spike observed.  
  
"Yeah, but good things come in threes. I thought I needed one more reason."  
  
"Right."  
  
Spike considered the doctor's thoughts. When he thought about it more deeply, maybe she wasn't so far off with the reasoning. Perhaps the reason Willow would take such a drug was so that she wouldn't remember what had been done. But Spike thought there was more to it than that. Perhaps Willow figured she would have a guilty conscience, and therefore she took some of the drug herself.  
  
Shit. He was talking like she actually was guilty. Despite what had evidently happened in May, Spike did not figure Willow to be some sort of violent criminal. Raping and killing a woman just did not fit into the profile he had long since established for her. There was another reason for this.  
  
"I guess none of this really helps you."  
  
Spike snapped his head up at the sound of Dr. Kelly's voice. "No. You helped me. Just not in the way I'd hoped. Thank you, Doctor, for the information."  
  
"Call me, Melissa." Yup, she had definitely warmed to him. "This girl must be a good friend of yours."  
  
"Actually, she and most of her crew barely tolerate my presence."  
  
Melissa looked confused. "So why are you helping her?"  
  
Good question. "Because I thinks it what I'm supposed to do. Anyway, thank you again. I'll just scurry along before you change your mind about calling security."  
  
Melissa smiled as Spike stepped quickly to the door. "Good luck," she called after him. Spike nodded his thanks and disappeared. 


	3. Part Three

FRIDAY MORNING MEYER LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA-SUNNYDALE  
  
God bless overcast days. Spike could almost delude himself into believing that the Big Man upstairs was giving him a break on his search for the truth. The cloud cover the weatherman predicted to hang around all day would allow him to move about at will. The investigation would go much quicker thanks to that.  
  
Spike stepped into the cavernous library and looked about in awe. The place was massive in structure. High arching ceilings. Stained glass windows. For a moment Spike thought that perhaps he had stepped into a Victorian church.  
  
"This has got to be Giles' wet dream."  
  
There had to be hundreds of thousands of volumes lining the shelves. He had never before scene such a collection of books in all his years. Slightly intimidated as he was, Spike shook off the feeling. He had work to do. He stopped at the front desk and asked an elderly worker where a computer lab was. She pointed him to a hallway off the east wall. Spike thanked her and followed her direction.  
  
Upon entering the hallway, Spike noticed a sign hanging above indicating the computer lab was the last door on the right. He found the lab to be nearly empty. He walked past a pair of sorority girls and blushed slightly when he realized they were checking him out. He smiled as he took a seat at a terminal.  
  
He chuckled slightly at what Buffy would think of him doing this. She, along with the rest of the Scoobies, probably figured Spike was ignorant to most modern technology. That was simply not true. One didn't survive as long as he had by being ignorant. Darwin wrote that those who adapt to the environment are the ones that survive. And Spike was certainly a survivor.  
  
He expertly clicked on the Internet Explorer icon and pulled up the university's web page. He clicked on the Current Students link. Spike frowned when he didn't find what he was looking for. He clicked back to the main page and tried again on Information. This time he struck gold. He clicked a small circle labeled People Search next to a browser. Spike typed in Amanda Richards and hit Enter. Three hits were shown.  
  
"Well shit," Spike mumbled. He thought back to the autopsy report. Didn't it say she was twenty-one? That would make her a junior or perhaps a senior. He clicked on the first Amanda. Nope. Freshman. Cross her off. He then tried the next two. The first was a junior and the second was a senior. Spike clicked on the Print icon and was pleased to hear the whir of the printer. Looks like he'd have to check out these two possibilities the old fashioned way. In person.  
  
Spike logged off the computer and grabbed his pages from the printer behind him. He folded them up and slipped them into his duster. Passing the two sorority girls again, Spike winked at them. He was pleased when they winked back. He then nodded his thanks again to the desk worker and left. Spike still had much work to do, and he wanted to get it done quickly.  
  
JUANITA BAKER HALL STUDENT DORMITORY  
  
Well, the first Amanda Richards, the senior, turned out to be a bust. The search had taken him to the Sigma Sigma Sigma sorority house. That Amanda Richards, a tall and attractive blonde and political science major, was very much alive. And while the prospect of lounging around with a houseful of virile and attractive young women was tempting, and despite how much they seemed to enjoy his presence, Spike excused himself to continue his search. The second Amanda Richards, a junior biology major, lived in room 701A of Baker Hall. Somehow he doubted this one would there to greet him.  
  
Spike was thankful when the elevator finally came to a stop on the seventh floor. Accompanying him on the way up were a couple boys bragging about some sexual conquests they had experienced. Considering the acne both seemed to be dealing with, Spike doubted their stories and told them so.  
  
"If you'd ever gotten laid in your miserable little lives you both would have clearer complexions."  
  
"Fuck you, dude!" one boy shouted. Of course, he waited until the door had just about closed shut behind Spike. The vampire shook his head in annoyance and looked about. Right across the elevators was a door marked 701. Spike shrugged and went over to the door and knocked. He didn't hear anything, so Spike twisted the knob. It was unlocked.  
  
The door opened to a small common area and a kitchen. To the right he saw a door that seemed to be the bathroom. Ahead of him, Spike saw doors marked A and B. He knocked on the A door. He heard a soft "Come in".  
  
Spike opened the door slowly. His eyes had to adjust to the fact the blinds were shut and the lights were off. In the far corner of the room was a wooden desk. When he could finally focus, Spike saw a small blonde sitting in a chair, her knees pulled up to her chin as she played a game of solitaire on a laptop.  
  
"Are you Amanda Richards roommate?"  
  
"Yeah," she answered softly. "I'm Becky. Who are you? A cop?"  
  
"A private investigator," Spike lied smoothly. "My name is William Summers. I've been hired by the relatives of the accused to look into this ordeal." Spike was incredibly surprised by the cool and professional tone he was using. Maybe when this was all over he could see if Angel had a position for him.  
  
"I'd like to start by saying that I am very sorry. This must be a terrible time for you. Being roommates, I imagine that the two of you were close."  
  
"Yeah. This would have been our second year together." Spike shielded his eyes for a moment when Becky flicked on a table lamp. "Sorry," she apologized.  
  
"It's okay. Listen, I would like to ask you some questions. Is that fine with you?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Spike crouched down so that he would be looking up at Becky. He didn't want to intimidate the girl, and he felt that this was the best position. Not having the experience of being an investigator, Spike had to pause a moment as he considered his opening question.  
  
"You knew Amanda quite well, correct?" Becky nodded that she did. "To the best of your knowledge, did Amanda use any illegal drugs?"  
  
"No," Becky said. "As far as I know, she never did weed or anything else. I mean, she drank once and a while. It's college. Who doesn't?" Spike nodded his understanding. "Why do you ask? I haven't been able to find out anything. Do the cops think she's been doing drugs?"  
  
"She was found with Ketamine and Ecstasy in her blood," Spike admitted.  
  
Becky frowned. "The date rape drug? Who's the guy that did it?"  
  
Spike paused a moment before speaking. He was curious to see what her reaction would be. "It wasn't a guy." Becky didn't give it a second thought. Spike then asked, "Did you know that Amanda was gay?"  
  
Becky just stared at him a few moments. She carefully considered what to say before settling on the truth. "Yeah. I knew she was gay. And before you ask, we were close, but we weren't that close."  
  
Spike nodded his understanding. "Was Amanda a social girl?" Becky glanced at him strangely. "Would she have gone out somewhere on Wednesday? A bar perhaps? Maybe to meet someone?"  
  
"You mean a gay bar?" Spike did. "Maybe, but not likely. Thursday's and Saturday's are the big party nights around here."  
  
Well, scratch that theory. If Amanda didn't met Willow at a bar or something then that means they had to have met earlier in the day. But where? Class was a possibility, but if that were the case, wouldn't Willow remember seeing her before? Plus, Willow was a psychology major. Amanda was biology. A little research had shown that those two majors frequented different buildings for the bulk of their classes.  
  
"Do you know what Amanda's schedule was like that day? What classes she had? Where she might have hung out? Anything like that?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Because this girl accused of killing Amanda claims to have never met her before. If that is true, then she met her sometime on Wednesday. I need to figure out where."  
  
"Oh. Yeah, uh, in the morning she would have had her Developmental Biology class and then College Algebra. After that she normally went to work for a couple hours. She's a cashier at the campus bookstore. I meet her at lunch over in Kemper at noon. After that she has a Microbiology lab."  
  
"Is that it?" Becky indicated it was. "Do you recall her talking to anyone new? At lunch perhaps?" Becky shook her head. "Did she mention meeting anyone?" Again he received a no. "Are you sure she wouldn't have done something else that day?"  
  
Becky suddenly thought of something. "Come to think of it, Amanda had been talking Tuesday night about going to some meeting that afternoon."  
  
Spike perked up at that. "A meeting? What kind of meeting?"  
  
Becky slowly stood from her chair and moved over to what Spike assumed was Amanda's desk. For the first time he noticed that Becky appeared to still be wearing pajamas. Spike felt a wave of sympathy for the girl. She really was taking this hard if she was sitting around in the dark with her nightclothes on. He watched as she shuffled some papers around on the desk. Finally she produced a pink sheet of paper.  
  
"Lucky you came here when you did," Becky commented. "Her parents were coming in from Portland tonight to pick up her stuff." She handed the paper over to Spike. A sense of déjà vu swept him.  
  
"Battling addiction? On the road to recovery? Need someone to talk to? Better Tomorrow is there for you. Come see us today, so you can have a Better Tomorrow." Spike sighed. He found the same flier in Willow's room.  
  
"She had just quick smoking but still had the cravings. She went to see if they could help."  
  
"I know the feeling," Spike admitted. "Just quit myself." He held the flier up and asked, "Can I have this?" Becky said it was fine. "I best be going now. I'm sorry to intrude." He stood up and walked towards the door. He stopped at Becky's voice.  
  
"This girl. Do you think she killed Amanda?"  
  
Spike turned back and looked into a pair of sad blue eyes. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I guarantee that I will find out the truth." That answer seemed to placate her. Becky turned back to her solitaire game. Spike slipped from the room quietly and left the girl alone.  
  
CRAIG HALL UC-SUNNYDALE  
  
Bradley Keller peered around the small group assembled in the conference room. He scratched at his goatee and decided to call on the newcomer. "William? Would you like to speak with the group?"  
  
Spike looked surprised to be called upon. "Uh, do I have to?"  
  
"Of course not," Bradley assured. "Oftentimes people new to the group do not speak at their first meeting. They often prefer to get comfortable by listening to others. But then again, we cannot help if you do not speak. It is your choice."  
  
Spike glanced around the room. One or two looked disinterested in what he had to say. A few gave encouraging smiles. And was that brunette winking at him? "Well, uh, okay. I've been trying to kick the habit as of late."  
  
"What habit would that be, William?" Bradley prodded lightly.  
  
"Smoking."  
  
"And what prompted you to do so?"  
  
"A girl, actually. There's this girl that I like, ya know? I thought maybe, you know, if I made a few changes, cut out some bad habits, maybe she'd like me like how I like her."  
  
"And how long did you smoke?"  
  
"Feels like decades."  
  
"And how do you feel about quitting?"  
  
"It's the right thing to do. It's a nasty habit. Blackens the lungs. Plus, second hand smoke isn't good for said girl's little sister. Anyway, it didn't feel like I should smoke anymore. But it's still tough."  
  
"Do you feel cravings?"  
  
"Oh yeah. All the time. It feels weird for my mouth to not have anything to do." Spike reached into his duster and pulled out a pack of wintergreen gum. "Been chewing on this stuff lately. Tastes like shit." A few of the girls giggled and watched him intently. It was slightly unnerving.  
  
"And how does the gum work?"  
  
"Okay, for a bit anyway. Few minutes after I spit it out, I'm feeling the urge again."  
  
Bradley nodded enthusiastically as he chewed on his pen. He had apparently heard this story before. "Okay. Well, I believe I can help you with that. You see, smoking is as much a psychological addiction as it is physiological. If you can win the battle in your mind, you can win the battle of the body."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"It's all about willpower. Focus the energies of your mind into conquering your addiction."  
  
"You mean like all that Eastern meditate-y stuff?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Well I can do that."  
  
"Ah! There you go! You're already gaining the positive mindset needed to accomplish the goal." A small, goofy grin crossed Spike's face. He was accomplishing his goal. "An addiction is nothing more than a mental signal saying that you cannot live without performing some function, which in truth, is not necessary. When you realize that, you can turn your focus away from the desire to smoke, and direct it towards more meaningful goals. Can you do that?"  
  
"Damn straight I can."  
  
"Excellent! And remember, if at any point you feel yourself succumbing to your addiction, repeat this phrase: Mind over Matter."  
  
"Mind over matter. I can do that."  
  
"Wonderful! Now, class, how about we all say it together?" The entire group repeated the phrase several times. "Great! Now, we will adjourn for the day. I hope to see you all at our next session."  
  
The group stood and prepared to leave. Spike noted that a few of them appeared to be students. That is, if the backpacks were any indication. He spotted a tall and willowy looking blonde smiling shyly in his direction. Spike smiled back and noted the blush creeping into her cheeks. Yup, he had a winner. She quickly turned away and walked out of the room. Spike trotted after the girl and caught up with her as she moved to a stairwell.  
  
"Excuse me? Miss?" The girl turned back and blushed again when she found Spike smiling down at her. Spike even found himself blushing slightly. It'd been awhile since he'd done this. "I hope you don't get weirded out. After all, some strange guy is running after you, but I was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee?"  
  
Spike wondered if it were possible to blush oneself to death. If it were, this girl was well on her way. "Okay," she grinned.  
  
"My name is William, by the way." Spike offered his hand and the girl shook it happily.  
  
"My name is Caroline," she answered.  
  
"Caroline," Spike smiled. "What a beautiful name." He offered his arm to Caroline. "Shall we?"  
  
STUDENT UNION UC-SUNNYDALE  
  
This whole talking to girls thing was far easier than Spike remembered. But then again, as a human, William was a loser. After being turned into a vampire, his relationship with Drusilla had never been based on talking. Spike thought he was doing remarkably well. His smile was genuine as he listened to Caroline jabber excitedly. He would have thought the girl had too much caffeine if not for knowing her coffee was of the decaffeinated kind.  
  
That was apparently the reason she attended meetings with Better Tomorrow. Caroline had informed him that during her freshman year, she had become addicted to caffeine pep pills so that she could do all-night study sessions during finals. Finals filtered into midterms, and midterms filtered into everyday. But she said she was clean now, despite the fact she talked a mile a minute.  
  
"I'm sorry," Caroline apologized again. "I know I'm going really fast. It must be some residual caffeine in my blood or something. Or it could just be that I'm talking to a guy. Most guys don't talk to me. Since I'm not a cheerleader or a sorority girl, they don't pay much attention to me and I should really shut up for a while so I don't bore you." Caroline stopped to catch her breath after her marathon talking. Spike just chuckled in amusement. He imagined Willow acting much this way when she was younger.  
  
"It's okay. You've got a pretty voice, so I think you can be forgiven." He shook his head in amusement as she blushed again. "Besides, I haven't been around all that many women recently. My pick up lines are a bit rusty." Spike gazed down at his hands as they tightened around the coffee cup. He hated to do this next part. He didn't want to hurt the girl's esteem. "I hate to admit this, but I actually had a duel agenda asking you for coffee."  
  
Caroline looked slightly alarmed. "Oh?"  
  
"Yeah," Spike admitted. "I mean, first, you're a very beautiful girl. I bet you don't hear it much, but I think you're quite the looker, and you seem like a sweet girl, so before you go on to your next class, I want to warn you, I will ask you out on a date."  
  
The girl had a pretty smile. "Thank you."  
  
"But I'm also a private investigator," Spike put forth. "I've been hired to look into a death, and I was hoping you could help me out."  
  
Caroline deflated a bit. This was too good to be true. A cute guy asks her for coffee and she expected just coffee? Of course there was a second agenda. "Okay."  
  
Spike reached into his duster and removed the picture of Amanda Richards he had swiped from the morgue. "Do you recognize this girl?"  
  
Caroline nodded slightly. "Yeah, she was in group a few days ago. She was a smoker like you."  
  
"What can you remember about the last day she was here? Did she say anything? Talk to anyone? Did she seem normal?"  
  
"I guess so," Caroline shrugged. "She talked for a bit that day. She sat next to some redheaded girl. They seemed to be pretty friendly."  
  
Spike removed a photo of Willow from his duster. "Is this the redhead?" Caroline nodded that it was. "Did it seem like they knew each other?"  
  
"No. I sat close by. I heard them introduce themselves to each other. I tried talking to them a bit before the group started, but they seemed to be in their own little world."  
  
Spike frowned. So this was definitely the first time they had met. But how do they go from a group meeting for addicts to a hotel room across town? Spike knew with certainty that Willow wouldn't just jump into bed with some strange woman. There had to be a catalyst, and it had to be in connection with this meeting.  
  
"Can you remember anything else?" Spike prodded.  
  
"I remember Bradley asked to speak with both of them after the meeting. I don't know why. I had to run off to a class."  
  
Ah ha! Bradley had solo contact with them. That certainly warranted investigation. "Does Bradley Keller work for the university?"  
  
"Yeah. He's a lecturer with the Health and Human Services department. He's got an office in Glass Hall, I think." Caroline then zipped her backpack shut and prepared to leave.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I've got an English Composition class in fifteen minutes. I need to go," Caroline answered sadly.  
  
"But you can't go before I ask you out."  
  
Caroline just stared at him skeptically. She then shook her head morosely. "You don't have to do that. I know you just wanted to talk about your case or whatever."  
  
"Does eight o'clock tomorrow sound good?"  
  
Caroline was about to walk away, but something in his eyes said not to. She pulled a magic marker from her bag and took Spike's hand. She quickly scribbled her phone number. "Eight sounds nice. What should I wear?"  
  
Spike smiled widely and shrugged. "Whatever it is that young people wear for a night on the town these days."  
  
"These days? What are you, my grandfather?"  
  
"I hope not. I'd be strange to ask my granddaughter out on a date. Something not quite right about that."  
  
Caroline giggled and waved goodbye. Spike watched for several minutes until she disappeared from sight. Wow. That was the first time he'd asked anyone for a date in over a century. She was far more receptive than most Victorian women. Spike drained the last of his coffee and tossed a ten- dollar bill on the table. Caroline mentioned that Keller had an office in Glass Hall. Spike figured that is where the investigation should go. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth. He repeated, "Mind over Matter," a few times. Spike was then off to talk with Bradley Keller in a more personal setting.  
  
*********** GLASS HALL DEPT. OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES  
  
Spike stood in front of the directory hanging on the wall trying to find Keller's office as he munched on a Snickers bar he just bought from a vending machine. He peeled back the last bit of wrapper and popped the last piece of candy into his mouth. Spike had never been a big candy fan, but that was some good stuff. Better than the gum he'd been chewing.  
  
"Excuse me?" Spike asked to a passerby. "Where would room 418 be at?"  
  
The student answered quickly. He seemed like he was late for class. "It's up on the fourth floor. Take the elevator and hang a couple of lefts and it'll be the last door on the right. It's across from the computer lab."  
  
"Thanks," Spike called after the hustling boy. Spike pitched the wrapper into the trash and moved to the elevators. He snuck in right behind a professor looking chap and some fat girl.  
  
When he finally reached the fourth floor, he took the time to step over to the railing and look down into the lower level's lobby. Any other day and Spike would be frying to a crisp right now. The entire front of the building had glass windows that would let the sunlight shine onto all the floors. The vampire again briefly considered the possibility of divine intervention since it was an overcast day. He then realized that when the interview with Keller was over that it wouldn't matter. The sun, covered as it may be, would be dipping beneath the horizon.  
  
Spike turned away from the dark clouds and headed off in the direction the student had indicated. He walked silently as he passed through a section of hallway that appeared to encompass offices. His vampire senses twitched as a voice that sounded distinctly like Bradley Keller's drifted through the halls. Demon stealth took over automatically. Not even his boots clicked on the tile floor as he approached.  
  
"Tell the guy to keep calm, Tom. The guy paid for results and we will give him results. I've got another one later. If I find some that will work, then we'll go ahead with it. Just keep everything ready."  
  
Spike held back a curse when a door shut loudly behind him. He turned and found an older looking male professor exit an office with a young blonde student. They were giggling and flirting until they spotted Spike.  
  
"Uh, Kendra, I'll grant you an extension on that paper," the man rambled. "Turn it in to my mailbox by Monday afternoon."  
  
"Yes, Doctor," Kendra agreed. She cast a quick embarrassed glance at Spike before hustling off. The doctor avoided his gaze all together and disappeared back into his office. By the time Spike turned his attention back to Keller's office, it became apparent that he had hung up the phone. He huffed in annoyance before switching gears and putting on a friendly façade.  
  
Spike stepped up and knocked gently on the door. "Mister Keller?"  
  
Bradley turned from his computer screen. "Ah! William, is it?" Spike nodded. "What is it that I can do for you?" Bradley picked up a few files from a guest chair and offered Spike a seat. The vampire graciously accepted.  
  
"I just wanted to speak with you in person. I've heard some wonderful things about you."  
  
"Have you now?"  
  
"I have. In fact, you were actually recommended by a friend of mine. She said that I absolutely had to attend one of your meetings."  
  
"Really? And who is your friend?"  
  
"Willow Rosenberg."  
  
Spike could feel Bradley's heart speed up by about five beats per minutes. An infinitesimal pause also went a long way in telling Spike what he needed to know. Bradley Keller was nervous. At it was Willow's name that did it.  
  
"Miss Rosenberg, you say? Pretty little redhead? Talks in a peculiar manner?"  
  
"That'd be her," Spike acknowledged. He had to give Keller credit. The guy calmed down fairly quickly.  
  
"I was disappointed not to see her today. She only attended one meeting, and that was a few days ago. She didn't talk much during it. Never did find out her problem. I'm surprised I made such an impression in such a short amount of time."  
  
"Well, that's the Willow we all know and love," Spike smiled. "She's a smart girl and a good observer. She's also good with people. She must have seen something she liked. I think I know what it is. You have such a positive attitude. Even someone as cynical as myself could believe they could kick the habit after listening to you."  
  
"Thank you for the compliment," Bradley smiled. Spike could tell, however, that it was slightly forced. 'What are you hiding?' the vampire wondered. "And as much as I would love to hear more praise, I really must wrap this up. I still have one more group tonight to moderate."  
  
Spike dutifully took his cue to leave. "I won't keep you, then." He stood up and carefully readjusted his duster. "One last question. What days do you do group?"  
  
"Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Will I be seeing you again?"  
  
"Count on it. I have the mantra going through my head, but I finished off a pack of gum and a Snickers on the way over here. Good night, Mister Keller."  
  
"Good night, William." Bradley watched as Spike left the office, a small scowl playing at his face. Spike allowed himself a small smile. He was now certain that Bradley Keller was someone he should look into. Then there was this Tom person he was talking to. It would take some digging, and Spike knew he wasn't the most qualified to do it. However, he did know a bloke that owed him a favor.  
  
Before he did that, Spike decided to hole up somewhere and get a bit of rest and some vamp food. He then thought a visit to Willow was in order. He was growing fairly confident that she was innocent. He just needed a few more leads to prove it. Hopefully Spike would get those leads tonight. 


	4. Part Four

FRIDAY NIGHT  
  
WESTFIELD APARTMENTS  
  
Spike hated coming to this apartment complex. He always felt the need to use disinfectant afterwards. The vampire carefully sidestepped a section of the wooden balcony he knew was rotting as he made his way to room 583. The smell of garbage permeated the air, and if Spike wasn't mistaken, the cat resting in front of room 579 appeared to be dead.  
  
"Lucky bastard," Spike mumbled. "Kitty heaven has got to be better than this." He finally reached his destination and knocked to the beat of 'Shave and a Haircut.' From the other side he heard a voice call out. "It's Spike. Can I come in?" Spike heard yes. He turned the doorknob and entered. The apartment wasn't much better than the outside.  
  
Beer bottles and fast food boxes littered the pathway to the living room. Spike spotted a mouse eating from a Chinese carton on the counter. As he moved further into the apartment, Spike began to see dirty clothes and old issues of Playboy lying about. Spike reached down and picked up an issue. He hadn't seen this one in a while.  
  
"Why'd you ask to come in?" a voice asked. "I've invited you in before."  
  
"Because it's the polite thing to do," Spike answered. He gazed at the centerfold of the January 1999 issue. He looked up and found a portly looking fellow flanked by a couple of desks staring at him. A couple of computer monitors were up and running along with various other pieces of equipment.  
  
"It's been awhile. Where you been?"  
  
"Africa." Spike tossed the magazine aside. "I need a favor, Harvey."  
  
"Sure thing. Want a beer?"  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"Michelob."  
  
"Hit me up."  
  
Spike moved around the first desk and took a seat in a swivel chair. He accepted the beer from Harvey and studied his old acquaintance. The fellow was about 5'6 and 200 pounds. He wore a pair of faded blue sweatpants and a beer stained gray t-shirt. He looked like a fairly normal guy, albeit a slovenly one. But if one looked just above the wide rimmed black glasses he wore, a person would notice that instead of hair, Harvey had quills resembling that of a porcupine's on the top of his head. It was the classic mark of a Quarris demon.  
  
Spike took a sip of beer and peered over to the television. Some porno was playing. A muscled guy was screwing a brunette and blonde. It looked like an amateur video taped in a hotel room if the shitty wallpaper was any indication.  
  
"I see you've moved away from the classics."  
  
"Yeah, well, I wore out my Debbie Does Dallas tape. Found a DVD version on Ebay, though. Should be here in a day or two. Oh, by the by." Harvey dug through one of his desk drawers and produced a cassette. "Here's that tape you wanted. Director's Cut of the horror classic Deep Red. That's the authentic Italian version."  
  
"Cool." Spike took the cassette and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm busy right now, but hopefully I can watch it in a day or two."  
  
"Never could understand why an authentic creature of the night wants to watch horror movies for. Don't they seem kind of mundane to your kind?"  
  
"Not to me."  
  
"Well, to each his own. You said something about a favor?"  
  
"I did." Spike put his beer aside and pulled a slip of paper from his coat. He handed it over to Harvey. "I need you to look someone up for me. His name is Bradley Keller. Runs an addiction seminar called Better Tomorrow out of the university. I want to know everything about him."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Down to whether he wears boxers or briefs."  
  
"I can do that." Harvey pulled up the Internet and intended to start his search. "What do you need this for?"  
  
"For a friend." That was all Spike offered. Harvey knew he wouldn't get anything else.  
  
"Tight lipped. That's cool. No problem. When do you want it?"  
  
"As soon as possible."  
  
Harvey nodded and went about his search. Spike watched for a few minutes and sipped his beer. He looked back over at the television and noticed the man finishing up with the two girls. "Where did you get this?"  
  
Harvey saw where Spike was looking. "I ordered it from the Internet. Some company I hadn't heard of that makes special orders. You tell them what you want and they deliver."  
  
Spike watched for a bit longer. "It's better than most I've seen. The blonde's kinda cute."  
  
"Looks sorta like that Slayer you got the hots for." Spike shot him a dirty look. "Just kidding! Geez, vamps have no sense of humor. Doesn't help that you're British, either. Want another beer?"  
  
"No. I need to get going. Thanks for the offer. I'll probably call in an hour or so to see how you're doing."  
  
"That's fine. I should have something by then. Now shoo! Go do whatever you vampires do."  
  
Spike did. At least, what vampires with souls seemed to do. Save people.  
  
SUNNYDALE POLICE DEPARTMENT  
  
Spike waited patiently on the good side of the glass for the guards to bring in Willow. After a few minutes wait, Willow appeared from a side door. She still wore handcuffs and the baggy orange jumpsuit. But unlike this time, a wide smile graced her face when she saw Spike. She hustled to the booth and picked up the telephone.  
  
"Spike! Hi!" Willow smiled widely.  
  
Spike couldn't help himself. The grin was infectious. "It's a sad day when a girl like you is happy to see a bloke like me. So, how's life in the pokey?"  
  
"Food sucks but at least we get cable. I've spent the past three hours watching a Brooke Burke Wild On marathon."  
  
"If that isn't institutional reform I don't know what is. And people say prisons don't rehabilitate."  
  
Willow giggled. "So what are you doing here?"  
  
"I came to see you. This is your case I'm investigating. Thought it only proper you be kept abreast of the situation."  
  
"Did you find anything?" Willow asked eagerly.  
  
"Nothing concrete," Spike admitted. When the smiled slipped from her face, Spike continued. "I've got a few leads going. And what I've seen so far has me convinced that you're not responsible. I just need some evidence to prove it."  
  
"What have you found?"  
  
"I went to the hospital morgue last night to snoop around. I came across some files about you and the victim. The girl was Amanda Richards. She was a junior biology major at UC-Sunnydale. After looking through her file and talking with a doctor, I discovered that toxicology found a drug in her system."  
  
"Ketamine," Willow supplied.  
  
"Not quite. It's a blend of Ketamine and Ecstasy and it's supposed to be the best of both worlds. Ketamine wipes the memory, but the Ecstasy makes the user all friendly and sociable. The prevailing theory with the coroner and with the police says that you took this drug so that you would forget what happened. Plausible deniability and all that."  
  
"So I made her OD and took it so I'd forget."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"That's a weak theory."  
  
"I thought so, too. But then again, there was no forcible entry. The room held no indication anyone but the two of you had been there. And if I'm not mistaken there is a little principle called Occam's Razor. The simplest explanation is often the correct one."  
  
"But you said that you believed me, right?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Good. What else did you find?"  
  
"I tracked down where Amanda lived and talked to her roommate. In case you were wondering, yes, Amanda was gay. And it would seem that the two of you met at the Better Tomorrow addiction recovery meeting you both attended. She was apparently kicking the smoking habit."  
  
"Are you sure that this is where I met her?"  
  
"Yeah. I attended a meeting earlier today and talked with a girl who was there. She recalls that you introduced yourselves to each other. I took her for some coffee and she said."  
  
"Wait," Willow interrupted. "You took this girl for coffee?" A silly grin crossed her face. "Was it a date?"  
  
"No," Spike muttered embarrassedly. "It was just coffee." Long pause. "The date is tomorrow night."  
  
Willow actually laughed. Hard. "You asked a girl out? Oh, that's great!"  
  
"I'm glad you think it's funny. I'll have you know I have several desirable traits," Spike defended. "I'm well versed in Victorian poetry, I'm a good dancer, and dammit, I'm a worthwhile person! Besides, after using her for information, I thought it only proper to treat her to a nice evening. Now can we please get back to business?"  
  
"Sure, Casanova."  
  
"Don't screw with me. You want me to go to the judge and say I saw you dope that girl? I'm a demon so don't think it's beyond me."  
  
Willow continued to giggle softly and wiped a few tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry. Please continue."  
  
"Thank you. As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, this girl."  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
"Caroline Davis," Spike supplied. "Now bite your tongue before I do it for you. She said that the moderator of the session, Bradley Keller, asked the both of you to stay afterwards for a discussion."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but he is the key to this investigation. I talked to him privately as well. His heart sped up when I said your name. He knows something. I've got a friend of mine doing a background check on him as we speak."  
  
"Sounds like you've had a busy day," Willow answered seriously. "Are you going to tell me what a creature that has no reason for doing so is helping me?"  
  
"Because you being in here felt wrong. It was weighing on my conscience."  
  
"Conscience. Right," Willow drawled. "You're a vampire. You don't have a.Oh my God." For the first time, Willow looked into Spike's eyes. Truly, deeply into the depths of his eyes. "You've got a soul." Spike said nothing. "You got a soul. How the bloody hell did you get a soul?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "You know. It was just one of those things. Thought I'd go on an African safari. See some cheetahs. Check out the natives. Have a human conscience forcibly rammed into my body so that a century's worth of torment and death could flood my mind. I considered going through Italy and whatnot for old times sake. I decided to forgo that and just come home, crawl into bed, eat a carton of Ding-Dongs and cry myself to sleep as I watched all the episodes of Passions that I TiVO'd. But you had to go and be accused of murder. Now I can see that a bloke's work is never done."  
  
"You've got a soul." Willow appeared to be stuck on that fact.  
  
"Indeed. And Cher's body composition is over forty percent collagen. It's a bit freaky, but you get used to it. Now, has Buffy and them all visited you since I was last here?"  
  
"Yeah. This morning."  
  
"You didn't tell them I was here, did you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good." Spike noticed the security guard motioning to his watch. "It looks like our time is just about up. Remember, I don't want anyone knowing I'm in town yet, okay?" Willow nodded. "Just keep your head up a bit longer. I'm close to getting you out. I know it."  
  
Spike tried to reassure her with a goofy smile. He was glad it seemed to work. He hung up the booth phone and allowed the guard to escort him away. As he was being led back to the lobby, a sudden thought occurred to him. He had been to all these places, talked to all these people, but there was one thing he was forgetting.  
  
Spike had yet to visit the crime scene.  
  
Exiting the police station, Spike spotted a payphone across the street. Jogging over, he opened up the phonebook attached to the counter. Flipping to the yellow pages, Spike scanned the motels section.  
  
"What the bloody hell was the name of that motel?" Spike found the one that sparked recognition in his mind. "Sunny-Rest Motel. That sounds like the right one." He found the address. He tore the page from the book and stuffed it into his pocket. He then walked back across the street and hopped into his car. Spike was soon on his way to collect some more clues.  
  
SUNNY-REST MOTEL 1265 E. GRAND STREET  
  
"This is the place." Spike stepped from his car and tossed the yellow page into the front seat. He shut the door and moved towards the room cordoned off by yellow police tape. Glancing about quickly, Spike opened up the door to room 121 and ducked underneath the tape.  
  
"Isn't this a little hellhole?"  
  
Spike had seen worse hotel rooms. Sometimes, out in the middle of nowhere, a bloke had to settle for less. But shit, there was a damn Comfort Inn a block away. If you're going to have a roll in the hay, might as well get a room with a mini-bar.  
  
The room's smell was offensive to someone with a demon's scent. The stale smell of sex, drugs, and blood hung in the air. Spike decided that a can of Lysol in here would go a long way. But then again, so would a gallon of gasoline and a match.  
  
To the west wall was a large mirror. The thing looked to be a good four feet by seven. Underneath was a long and shitty looking drawers set. A twenty-year-old Panasonic television rested atop it. To the east wall was a small nightstand with a lamp, telephone, and a Bible most likely left by the Gideon's. A queen-sized bed with a really bad floral patterned quilt dominated the room. In the far corner was an overstuffed chair, and off to the right, there was the bathroom door. All in all, there was nothing extraordinary about the room.  
  
So why the hell did Spike feel like something was off?  
  
Spike crossed the room and gently pushed open the bathroom door. He looked around the small room and found nothing out of order. Sink. Toilet. Shower. Horrific polka dot shower curtain. A redecorator's wet dream, but again, nothing special.  
  
Back in the main room, Spike's focus fell once again to the unmade bed. There was something off. But what the hell was it? Chair. Bed. Table. Mirror. This was bugging the hell out of him. Spike took a seat on the drawers next to the television and stared at the bed.  
  
Amanda's body was found on the right half of the bed. Her arm was draped over the side and her head was facing the closest corner. In that corner, Sunnydale Police found Willow huddled and leaning against the wall.  
  
It clicked.  
  
"The bloody wall," Spike murmured.  
  
The vampire was on his feet in an instant and racing out the door. He just had a very disturbing thought. And if he was right, then Spike just broke the case wide open.  
  
WESTFIELD APARTMENTS  
  
Spike didn't bother with pleasantries this time around. He threw open the door to Harvey's apartment. The demon was surprised by the sudden arrival. Another porn movie was playing, and Spike graciously ignored the fact that Harvey was pulling his sweatpants up.  
  
"Spike? What's up? What happened to that knocking thing you were doing earlier?"  
  
"Where's that tape you were watching earlier?" Spike demanded. The vampire rushed over to the VCR and yanked out the playing tape. He tossed it aside and began to frantically shuffle through various porn tapes. "Where the fuck is it?"  
  
"The one that was specially ordered?" Harvey was nervous. He'd never seen Spike this frantic, and frankly, he was scared to death.  
  
"Yes! That one! Where the hell is it?"  
  
"It's the one labeled Erotic Dreams. That's the company that produces it."  
  
Spike found the correct tape. He none too gently slammed it into the VCR and pressed play. His fears were confirmed. On the screen before him were the same bed, lamp, and shitty wallpaper that he had seen minutes earlier in the Sunny-Rest Motel.  
  
"Son of a bitch. Harvey!"  
  
"Yeah?" the demon gulped.  
  
"What did you find about Bradley Keller?"  
  
Harvey turned quickly to his desk. He better find that info quick before he got hurt. The demon found some printouts that he made earlier. "Uh, here you go." Harvey began to read what he found. "Bradley Charles Keller. Born in Yuma, Arizona in 1975. He has a Master's Degree in Social Work from Northern Arizona University. Two years ago he was offered a job as a lecturer at UC-Sunnydale. Soon after he took over the university sponsored program called Better Tomorrow."  
  
Spike was loosing patience. He jerked the printouts away from Harvey and began to skim the information. He found something very intriguing under Family Relations. "He has an older brother named Thomas." Spike's mind immediately went back to the phone conversation Bradley had before Spike revealed himself. "Where is he at?"  
  
"Oh, well that's pretty interesting. Thomas studied at USC and majored in Media. But for whatever reason he ended up here in Sunnydale. He actually got into the hotel business. Can you believe that? He owns a few around the state, including one here in Sunnydale. It's called.well, hell, what is it called?" Harvey drew a blank.  
  
"The Sunny-Rest Motel?" Spike supplied.  
  
"Yeah!" Harvey answered enthusiastically. "You know it?"  
  
"I'm becoming acquainted with it."  
  
"Hey, now that I've given you all of this, do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"  
  
"Bad stuff, Harv," Spike answered. "And if I'm right, you're gonna want to destroy that Erotic Dreams tape. The police might not be too forgiving."  
  
Harvey paled. He was only left to ponder what the heck Spike meant as he watched the vampire leave. He decided not to question it. Harvey took the tape and tossed it into the trashcan. He poured a part of a beer in and tossed a lit match after it. Harvey then watched the tape burn.  
  
SUNNY-REST MOTEL  
  
One would normally expect rooms 120 and 121 to be right next to each other. When Spike visited earlier, he paid no attention to the fact that they weren't. In truth, the room in which Willow and Amanda had their little rendezvous was separated from room 120 by a large room marked OFFICE & MAINTENACE.  
  
Spike took a bite out of one of his Twizzlers as he watched an older version of Bradley Keller exit the office and walk back to the main office of the hotel. Once Thomas disappeared, Spike stuffed the rest of the candy into his mouth and jogged over. He gave the office doorknob a quick jingle. It was locked. It was time to move to plan B.  
  
Spike pulled some hair clips from his pocket that he purchased at a local Dollar Store. He straightened a pair of them out and went to work on picking the lock. After two minutes worth of effort and a few swear words, Spike grinned in satisfaction when the door swung open. When he entered, Spike found exactly what he expected.  
  
On the east and west walls were pointed a pair of video cameras that looked through what appeared to be some of those one-way see-through mirrors he saw in police movies. Things were really starting to come together.  
  
On the far wall was a desk, file cabinet, and a bookshelf. The desk surface was covered with a new Gateway computer, a Sony television, a telephone/answering machine combo, and a double-decked VCR that Spike recognized was used for video editing.  
  
Spike immediately went to the bookshelf. Each shelf had different labels. There was one labeled ARCHIVE, TO BE EDITED, and READY TO GO. The bottom shelf was empty, so Spike turned to the one that had tapes to be edited. There were four there, and it didn't take long to find the one labeled with the desired date. He popped the tape from its case and slipped it into the VCR. He watched with a combination of disgust and arousal as the screen filled with images of a very naked Amanda Richards and Willow Rosenberg filled the screen.  
  
It was disturbing to watch Willow make love with a dead woman, but God help him, Spike couldn't turn away. He swallowed heavily and watched as Amanda licked her way down Willow's body and elicit sounds that he never imagined the redhead could make.  
  
"Oh, this isn't right."  
  
Before he could think twice, Spike hit the STOP button and pulled the tape out. He put it back in its case and slipped it into his duster. "Nobody else needs to see this," Spike declared. He was about to take the tape and report his findings to the police when he noticed a red light flashing on the answering machine. There was a message. Curious, Spike hit PLAY. Bradley Keller's voice filled the room.  
  
"Tom. Guess what? I found a couple girls at my last session that should do the trick for our next job. They're not twins, but they are blondes and have some really great knockers. Get 120 ready for midnight. I'm going to keep them busy until eleven and then give them the stuff. See you then!"  
  
The sons of bitches had the gall to keep working even though there was an investigation going. Spike looked at his watch and saw it was a quarter till eleven. "Screw the police. I'm doing this my way."  
  
A plan was forming in Spike's head. It was cruel and more than a bit unusual, but the vampire was convinced it was fair punishment. He'd let the police have them after that. Spike grinned evilly as he made sure that neither brother would detect that someone had been in the room. After making sure everything was in place, Spike locked the door behind him and prepared to go shopping. He'd need a few supplies, but he should be more than ready to go by midnight.  
  
This was going to be fun.  
  
SUNNY-REST MOTEL 12: 03 AM  
  
Thank God for Wal-Marts, Spike decided. It was wonderful to live in a country where you could purchase any good you desired twenty-four hours a day. Toting his recent acquisitions in a brown paper bag, Spike whistled 'Stairway to Heaven' and marched to the office door. He leaned his head against the door and detected a pair of heartbeats. Spike set the bag down and took a step back.  
  
"Oh, this will be fun."  
  
Spike reared back and delivered a sharp kick to the door. It broke off its hinges and crashed at the feet of two very startled brothers. "Well, 'ello mates. Whatcha doin'?" Spike stepped into the room and peered through the mirror. Two attractive and well-endowed blondes were getting friendly with each other. "Interesting show you boys got playing. Illegal as hell, but interesting nonetheless."  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Thomas demanded. "You can't just come in here!"  
  
"His name is William," Bradley answered. "He was in my first seminar today." He then directed his comments to Spike. "You made a mistake coming here."  
  
"Did I?" Spike continued to look into the motel room with vague interest. "I think it's a fairly smart move. You see, I get to confront the sons of bitches who are responsible for my friend being in jail." Spike turned to the brothers and gave an evil smile. "You remember Willow Rosenberg? Pretty little redhead? Tendency to babble? Does a cute little thing with her tongue when she smiles? This coming back to you?  
  
"She's spent the past few days in the city lockup awaiting a hearing. Seems that she's the only suspect in the death of Amanda Richards. This girl, Amanda, died because of an overdose of a drug nicknamed Kicks. It's a mix of Ketamine and Ecstasy. But then again, you already knew that, considering you two are the little bastards that slipped her the Mickey so they would participate in your mail order pornography business. By the way, you will both pay severely."  
  
"Bullshit," Thomas scoffed. "You have nothing on us."  
  
"Yes," Bradley agreed. "And even if you did, what makes you think you'll get out of here alive?"  
  
Spike laughed as the pair stood up and prepared to attack him. "First off, I have a damn good suspicion that I'm going to be able to make you confess to everything you done. And second," Spike took great pleasure in the fact that they trembled in fear at his demon face, "I wasn't even alive when I came in here. If it's any consolation, it's gonna hurt me like hell to deliver the ass whipping you two are about to receive. But then again, it is so gonna be worth it. Now let's dance."  
  
*****  
  
Ten minutes, and two perfectly tied sailor's knots later, Bradley and Thomas Keller were tied up inside the motel room. The two girls, who vaguely answered to Kim and Hannah, were passed out on the bed after Spike broke up their little endeavor. In the overstuffed chair Spike sat, a Tootsie Roll pop in his mouth and a tape recorder in his hand. He looked pleased.  
  
"Now, just for the record, where did you purchase the drugs from?" Spike asked. He had a hell of a migraine from his chip buzzing for several minutes straight, but he could take satisfaction in the bruises the Keller boys wore.  
  
Beaten, a trail of blood dripping from his lips, Bradley Keller would have loved to rip William's heart out. But seeing as how he was the one bound to a chair, Bradley decided to spill.  
  
"From a local dealer named Eddie. He's got connection down in LA."  
  
"I see. And you gave this drug to people you forced to participate in your videos, correct?" They both nodded. "The microphone can't see you boys nod." They begrudgingly spat out a 'yes'. "And when anyone would wake up, they would normally assume they had a one night stand that couldn't be remembered, correct?" Another 'Yes' was heard. "You two are truly sick bastards. Is this the first time a girl accidentally overdosed? Remember to speak nice and loud for the pretty microphone."  
  
"Yes!" Thomas snapped. "It was the first time! Now are you going to let us loose?"  
  
"Of course," Spike said. "But I'm not quite through with either of you yet. After I'm done, then I'll let the police charge you with manslaughter, drug possession, and a whole bunch of other charges I'm sure the both of you are guilty of." Spike clicked off the cassette player and reached into the Wal-Mart bag at his feet. He produced cans of black and orange paint. "It may not be Halloween yet, but if I were either of you, I'd be scared shitless right now."  
  
***** It was shortly past one in the morning when the Sunnydale Police Department responded to a call at Sunny-Rest Motel. The first officer on the scene had never experienced such a bizarre sight in his three years on the force. That was quite a statement considering he lived on the Hellmouth.  
  
His eyes first came to rest upon two attractive young ladies resting beneath a crappy floral comforter. Once his inner pervert had been satisfied, he noticed a much more unusual sight. Hanging upside down from a recently installed pulley system were two men. Bare naked, they had their mouths duct taped shut and their bodies painted bright orange. Black lettering covered the chests of both. The first read "WE'VE BEEN BAD". On the second man it was painted "PLEASE ARREST US". There was a tape recorder resting on the TV stand with a note marked "EVIDENCE" attached to it.  
  
"This town just keeps getting weirder," the officer decided.  
  
****** 11:52 AM  
  
From the nearby alley, Spike watched the happy reunion with a smile. In front of the police station, Willow and the rest of the Scoobies shared a moment. Spike felt vaguely envious That was something he knew that he'd never experience. But at least he could feel the satisfaction of knowing he played hero.  
  
He could take satisfaction that the evidence he had provided got Willow off the hook. And while Jekyl and Hyde hadn't confessed to the crimes yet, the police were confident that Willow was an innocent party. Hell, that was good enough for Spike. Besides, he could always kill Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb if they ever got free.  
  
Spike stuck around a minute longer and watched a few more hugs. They finally all piled in Giles' sedan and drove away, presumably to celebrate Willow's release. Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Twizzlers. He took one of the licorices and chomped down. He'd pay a visit to Red later. Right now, all he wanted to do was get some rest. After all, Spike did have a date later.  
  
******** 7:03 PM  
  
Willow was tired. After her time in jail and the festive welcome home party, all the redhead wanted to do was go to sleep. Believe it or not, but jail cots weren't the most comfortable things she'd ever slept on.  
  
Saying goodnight to her friends, Willow disappeared upstairs and slipped into her bedroom. Looking to unwind, she was about to slip her t-shirt above her head when a cough sounded from the corner.  
  
"As enticing as a peepshow may be, I got places to be, Red."  
  
Willow squeaked in alarm and dropped the shirttail back down over her abs. Spike sat in the corner chair, a small smirk playing at his lips. Willow couldn't help but smile back. "I don't know how many boys would like to see me give a peepshow."  
  
Spike shrugged and continued to grin. "What skin I saw was pretty nice." He glanced at his watch. "I still got a few minutes, so if you want to continue."  
  
"No thanks. You can just use your imagination."  
  
"Will do, love."  
  
The pair shared a nice moment. Willow broke the silence. "Thank you. For everything. You saved me."  
  
"Hey, it's what us vampires with souls do. You know, as much as I hate the poof and still do, this whole saving the humans bit does have an upside."  
  
"I'm glad your epiphany still seems to be running strong. Before you know if you may have a detective agency and employees." Spike scoffed at that. "But Spike, seriously, thank you so much for what you did. I don't think I can ever repay you for this."  
  
Spike slowly stood from the chair. "No payment needed, love. Us souled vampires work merely for the thanks of those we help. But, if you wanna buy a bloke a drink sometime, I won't stop you."  
  
"No problem," Willow smiled. For the first time she noticed how he was dressed. Black jeans. White dress shirt. Black suit coat. He looked nothing like the vampire she knew. He even let his hair go curly. "Damn. You're looking fine."  
  
Spike blushed at the compliment. "Thank you. Date tonight. Thought the punk motif wouldn't fly. Although I think this shirt is making my chest chaff."  
  
"If you get lucky, maybe you won't be wearing it long."  
  
Spike blushed more. "A gentleman doesn't discuss such matters." He paused a moment before reaching into his coat and retrieving a videotape. He handed the tape over to a curious Willow.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"That," Spike drawled, "is evidence I lifted from a police locker. It's the tape with you on it. I didn't think it needed to be paraded around as evidence for all the coppers to get their jollies off with."  
  
Willow's thankful look only deepened. "Spike, thank you. I don't know what to say."  
  
"You don't have to say anything. Although it might be interesting to tell Buffy I'm in town now. Maybe let it slip I played hero AND landed a date. See how she reacts to both." Spike enveloped Willow in a quick hug that she enthusiastically returned. The vampire then moved to the open window and prepared to slip out. One last thought occurred to him before he put a foot up on the windowsill. A wicked smiled crossed his face.  
  
"I shoulda let you finish the striptease. Maybe I would have seen that butterfly tattoo you got in that special place."  
  
Willow's eyes got as big as saucers. "How do you know about." She glanced down at the tape. Realization sunk. "You watched the tape!"  
  
Spike smirked. "Had to make sure I got the right one. Goodnight, Red."  
  
As Willow continued to blush furiously, Spike slipped out the window and dropped to the ground. He had to book. His date was at eight. Spike reached into his coat and retrieved a Mars bar. And as the vampire munched on his candy, he couldn't help but reach a conclusion.  
  
Maybe being one of the good guys wasn't so bad after all.  
  
THE END 


End file.
